Missing Links
by Risulyn
Summary: In an attempt to get Lor away from Mac so that he can cool down, despite her new Fae status, Ryodan sends him on a quick jaunt into the English countryside to retrieve a chest from a monastery but Lor brings home someone much more.
1. Chapter 1

Acacia:

The rolling British hills look like nothing bad has happened in their hundreds of thousands of years of existence. Flowers riot as far as the eye can see, blotting out much of the grass, and it's hard to tell that a little over a year ago life sucking shades had ravaged the entire area. As we walk along a road that follows a relatively fast moving river, Bridget's still plump hand tucked into mine, I sing Sexy Can I. Not an appropriate song in the presence of a ten year old but she's deaf and hardly paying any attention to my lips. Instead she tries to mimic the graceful play of my body as I dance and walk. That I keep both as PG and human as possible.

Hard to do as I've just eaten, my heart is beating, and the warm for once sunshine makes me feel loose and limber. My beast prefers the night but given the lack, she'd still approve of the space available to sneak up on prey with her incredible speed and tear them to pieces with ease. She wants nothing to do with the child slowing us down; she's wanted nothing to do with the family we've been tied to since my birth and her creation. It's an unwanted attachment, making us weaker, she insists but I don't bother listening. This child, her sisters, brothers, aunts, uncles, and cousins were mine to protect and have been for hundreds of years. Their bloodline is a record and the only living link to my history. In rare moments of perfect clarity, like now, they're my family.

Many generations ago, the nomadic family had come into contact with a woman who'd wreaked of wild magic, ravaged and surrounded by fierce beasts, surely the hounds of hell, which had bayed terribly and would lunged at any who'd come near the woman. They'd been fixated on the infant she carried in her arms, though whether to do harm or to protect, the stories didn't say. The bloodied woman had given a sharp command in a language none in the caravan had recognized, momentarily freezing the beasts long enough for her to deposit the child into the current chief's head wife's arms. The stranger admonished the wife to raise the girl child as a male, to be trained in the ways of war, until she was fatally scarred. Murmuring words that filled the air around the gathered people, the blood soaked woman traced a symbol along the throat of both the chief and his wife.

Turning, she'd left, the beasts howling in what seemed like agony to those who had remained brave enough to stay behind while they'd followed the woman away. The small band of travelers could hear the sound of the beasts for hours as they'd traveled as far and fast into the night as they could. No matter the misgivings they felt against the child, none could bring themselves to abandon it or pass the care of it to another. They followed the commands of one who could control a pack of foreboding creatures; I was christened Acacia but called Aca, dressed and treated as a boy. I didn't play with dolls or do chores with the other females but instead followed after the boys.

Years passed and though I stopped cutting my hair short, stopped bathing with the men, received my monthly menses, and became curvy in both chest and hips, I continued to train in war. Or what little of war a band of gypsies know; they learned how to protect their camp and people. I could ride, fight with daggers, and shoot a bow and arrow. During raids against my people, I was a valuable asset and could defend as well as the young men around me. It was only when I'd turned eighteen, when confronted constantly with the sights of girls my age and younger with young men and families began making me unsatisfied with my own lot, that life as I knew it radically changed.

One night we were attacked by a band of real warriors while we made our way towards a monastery and I was killed. A sword pierced my heart through the center of my chest and ripped up towards my throat, ending my life abruptly but at least with purpose; I'm told that while several of our defenders died that night, most of our people escaped. They returned forty-eight hours later to retrieve our bodies only to discover that mine was gone. No sign of it other than the rusted, dried blood colored splotch in the grass where I had fallen.

Some seventy-eight hours after that, I was back in that same spot, surrounded by people who had lovingly raised me, but not in the form of an eighteen year old woman. Instead I was a huge beast, filled with rage and ready to kill anything that moved. I wanted too. So badly. Every man woman and child within reach of my fangs and claws was marked against me, right at the pulse on their throats. I howled in rage, claws raking and gouging soft soil. I dropped my head and instinctively used a row of horns curving from my forehead to uproot a sapling and send it flying. Saliva pooled and fell in large ropes down my jaws, spraying any who got too close when I snapped at them.

It was the man who raised me who finally threw several pieces of cloth in my direction which I promptly tore to shreds. All the while I inhaled scents I didn't recognize; I ignored the new world of red, blacks, greys, and whites my eyes presented and focused on the smells. When I could tell them apart from everything else, I sprung away from those I could not eat and began hunting for those I could, killing any animal regardless of its size that came anywhere near me, leaving a path of death and destruction in my path as I hunted.

My body blended with forest and the night, it moved with an unnatural grace, and it hungered. Though it wasn't hard to move as I was, I breathed heavily. Only my lack of heartbeat felt off; it seemed as if it should be practically pounding out of my chest. Finally, I hear the heavy clod of horses, soft chink of weapons, and scent my prey. When I explode out of the forest, not even the sensitive senses of the animals provide the men with a warning. I kill horses and men alike in the space of a few moments.

The organs though, I feast on them slowly.

I come back to myself slowly, moving like an animal, a rattle reverberating in my chest. Bridget can't hear it but she's doing everything humanly possible to move like me. Shoving the animal back in her cage, I pick a new song. L.I.T.'s My Own Worst Enemy seems appropriate right now so I start to sing that. No need to fall into memories beyond that night. I didn't go back to the gypsies after that for years. After finding my way back to the human body I had left, I'd found a thick scar from my chest to shoulder, a wild beast deep within, and a realization that I was not ready for war. Raiding the clothes, supplies and weapons that I could, I faked being a male and searched for real training. It took thirty years; I lost teachers when they died in battle, when I died and returned to grounds the monastery had expanded to, found out my gender, or felt I learned all I could, but when I returned to my people, drawn by the mark they still bore that had saved them from my beast, I was a real warrior.

They welcomed me back and I kept them safe for it. We'd only lost a few of our band in the last year, the shades feared me, and most of the higher fae stayed far away from me. Not that many of them were around anymore. Things were looking better. I raise my voice higher, not caring I'm not singing in the right key or dancing like a fool. There's nobody but Bridget and myself enjoying the day.


	2. Chapter 2

Lor:

Fucking Barrons. Fucking Ryodan. Fucking Mac. Fucking Mirrors. Barrons for protecting Mac, as if the blond little bitch needs it anymore; she's the fucking Fae Queen now. He acts like I would have continued to choke the life out of her. Who knows, I could have surprised myself and stopped before she died. Fucking Ryodan. Wants to keep the child-woman Dani/Jada happy and stable. He knows Mac's a part of doing that. Now that the young boy genius is dead and Dani/Jada's allotted period of mourning is almost over, Ryodan's going to make his move in securing her by his side; much like Barrons has secured Mac. It'll be years yet but if there's one thing about Ryodan I have to respect it's his ability to see several hundred moves ahead of everyone.

Fuck Mac. Fuck her for every fucking little thing she did wrong. Fuck her for the major screw ups. Fuck her for Dani. For me. For Jo. Fuck her mostly for being right. I can see she loved Jo, I know the Sinsar Dubh used her body to kill the petite brunette, and I know it kills Mac that she couldn't stop it. Fuck her because she was right that I didn't love her. Like I told her in the quaint little book store her and Barrons like to play house in; I could have loved Jo, but I didn't. Not yet. Fuck Mac because all these years after I let go of the Bonecrusher, of fucking, fighting, watching Barrons hunt, and Ryodan taking over the world while simultaneously waiting for it to end, I stopped believing in love.

Not happily ever after. No prince riding up on a white charger and slaying the dragon kind of Disney fairy tale bullshit. But facing the same demons every day; yours and hers. Dealing with obnoxious quirks, fucking every night and finding new ways to do it years in, building memories that span years instead of moments. Mac drives me bug fuck because she pushed one lie, one action, one woman onto me and made me realize love is still out there. I can still feel it. I'd rather be the Bonecrusher again.

Lastly, fuck the Mirrors that disappeared when Mac sang the Song of Making. Every single sifting mirror had winked out of existence which meant this little trip that Barrons wanted to happen to keep Mac safe that Ryodan ordered had to be done the old fashioned way. By car, then boat, then finally running. No beast help either. Let's just drive Lor completely bug-fuck by giving him ample time to think. Seems like a great idea.

The minute my feet had hit the shores of England, I'd shed my human movements and let my animal side take control. People who saw me backed away and pulled their children into their homes. Not like it would have stopped me if I'd wanted a snack. Deep in my chest, there's a rattle that doesn't bode well and my mouth curves into a smile that I'm positive doesn't reach my eyes. There will probably be a chance to eat before I return to Ireland and I'll take it. Up yet another hill and I'm pretty sure I'm half a day from the bloody monastery I'm supposed to be grabbing an iron bound, wooden chest from. Tucked into my black cargo pants is a letter from Barrons that's supposed to have them hand it over immediately. Otherwise, I'm supposed to just take it. The words by force hadn't been spoken, but a nearly nine-foot beast can hope.

The sounds of singing cause me to slow. The hills are not alive with the sound of music, it's some pop song sung in the wrong key, something I remember vaguely being on Dani's song list when we dealt with the Hoar Frost King. The voice is young, enthusiastic, and heading my way. I can hear two people walking, no big deal, and that they're light is also not that noteworthy. It's the scent rolling off one that gets my attention; the smell of a female overlaid with that of one of us. Of a one in possession of a beast. As far as any of us know, there's none here in England right now.

In a blink I've freeze-framed up the hill and in such an infinitesimal amount of time, the singing cuts off and before my stunned eyes I see a girl, or maybe a young woman, is freeze framing a child into an emergency raft and shoving it with incredible strength into the river. Dani's always been one of a kind in the speed and strength department for a human but this dark haired, fair skinned female with bare feet and a pink sundress is giving our red head a run for her money. There's a problem with what I'm seeing though; she's moving like us meaning there's no way one of us happened to fuck a sidhe seer that happens to move like Dani. Our eyes meet briefly, hers wide with a mix of curiosity and challenge before she freeze-frames in the opposite direction.

I freeze frame to catch up but what she lacks in my muscle she makes up in a speed Dani would envy. This female is definitely ours. Frustration forces another rattle to sound deep and that noise causes her to slow down the slightest bit as she looks back at me. I push harder and slam my body into hers, taking us both to the ground. She's slight, fine boned, and reminds me of my girl back in Ireland and I make a grave mistake because of that; I keep my arms lose in an attempt to lessen the impact of my body on her, make sure my chest doesn't slam into hers so that she doesn't lose her breath. The space I afford her allows her to wedge her legs between us and send me flying.

I at least admire the view of her kipping to her feet and taking off again as I turn my body in a painful, unnatural in this form arc that lands me right side up before I pursue her again, my rattling answered this time by a more delicate one in her chest.

The beast in me rears up and I can feel parts of me changing; fangs filling my mouth, horns forcing their way through skin along my forehead, skin darkening. I beat the change back. I don't want to hunt this creature, I want to catch her. She tops a hill and makes her way down and I'm right behind her. Half way down the hill for me and up another hill for her, I lunge, not bothering to be careful as our bodies collide. We roll, her dress tearing, no match for the ground and our fight. I'm trying to subdue her and I swear she's trying to castrate me. I curse her out between clenched teeth; blonds don't try to do this to me. They like what I can do with my cock. It's only the bloody brunettes that try to either rip my balls off or mentally belittle me.

I pin her down and finally get a good look at her. The first thing I notice is a scar running from between a pair of nice tits up to her shoulder. It's thick and wide, if I had to guess, it was given by a broadsword. No human survives a blow like that. As I look, her skin takes on a dusky hue, drawing my gaze to her face. Fangs, red tinged hazel eyes, I think I see horns through a wild disarray of thick brown curls. Together there's a hell of a racket coming from between us. Though she seems ready to tear into me, my own beasts homicidal rage is tempered and almost tinged with amusement. Now I'm curious. I drop my head into the crook of her shoulder and inhale deep, pulling in the interesting mix of woman and beast before giving into the urge to nip.

An offended growl interrupts her rattle and true amusement fills me. It's been a long, long time since I've last been really challenged, mind or body, and this girl presents an interesting one. I lean back, making sure to keep her oxygen levels low and not give her any space to maneuver. It works. I'm enjoying the feel of her against me. "Who are you? Are there more like you around here?"

She bares her fangs and tries to wiggle away, buck me off, and then tries to jerk her knee up between my thighs. None of which does anything other than irritate me. Time to use some good old-fashioned Druidry. " _Who are you and are there more like you around here?"_ She stills, looking momentarily startled, and I watch as she sinks inside herself to fight Voice. Her lips part, then clamp shut several times before a shudder runs through her.

She chokes out, "Acacia. No." I wait, hoping she'll divulge more, but she's given me to the letter what I've asked for and is back to struggling. But not with magic. In fact. I pin both wrists with one of my hands and shift her ruined dress around before flipping her onto her back. Not one hint of black or red ink anywhere on her skin. One of the nine now ten always have ink on us somewhere. Despite her struggles, I flip her back around and bring our faces close. _"Do you perform magic?"_

This time, her answer is immediate. "No." Still concise. Giving nothing away beyond exactly what I'm asking for. I'd actually kill to have Barrons or Ryodan here right now, they have a way with asking the right question with Voice. Guess I should have paid attention all those years while one was hunting and the other was conquering.


	3. Chapter 3

Acacia:

I've always thought I was one of a kind. I've had a good reason to believe this since I've been alive hundreds of years and never seen another like myself. More recently, the Dark Court of the Unseelie King has been slithering about and some of them have been limited editions of exactly one. I should be thrilled to find another like myself but instead I'm livid, pinned, there's someone who's stronger and at least as fast as I am, and I'm answering questions without meaning to. I don't understand what's going on.

I don't like how this huge, blond warrior is staring at me; there's no doubt that he's a warrior. That saying they don't make them like they used to anymore definitely applies to this male. Maybe he's Nordic? Further back than that? Before he can ask me any more questions in that layered voice of his, I ask my own. "Who are you?" I throw in a demand while I'm at it. "Let me up."

He smiles, settles a little more heavily over me and says in that terrible voice I already hate, " _Don't speak unless spoken to_." Jack ass. I've had it. My beast wants free, to tear into him and feast on his entrails so I let go of my humanity and feel the change begin, the melting of one form into another. " _Don't move. Stay a woman."_ He watches me closely, like he's not sure it's going to work and I smile when I continue to grow in size, my horns lengthening, and fur starts taking over. Thank god some things going my way today.

Then I shudder, pain twisting its way down my spine and every change I was glorying in is undone a mere few minutes later. Whatever he's been doing works. Damn! When he removes his hands with a smug look on his face, I know something can't be right. I can't move. I try to wiggle my fingers, toes, something but I can't seem to do it. I'm breathing, tracking him with my eyes, as he brackets my head on either side with his hands, so there's a way to get around this, but I'm suffering from my beasts near homicidal rage and desire to fight him.

He stays over me for several more minutes while I rage at him in my head, occasionally smiling like something amuses him in this silent battle of wills we're waging in which I'm lost. Finally, he picks me up and slings me over his should like a damned cave man. I don't know where he thinks he's taking me but

Oh god. My stomach heaves and I swallow hard. I've occasionally carried people while I went super-fast. I'd say one in a thousand seem to enjoy the rush they get when I move them. I am not one of them. Nausea rolls through me and I pray that if I vomit, I do so more on him than myself, and it looks like I might get my desire when my body tightens, ready to expel some of what I'd eaten a few hours ago. Without slowing, the male shifts me and commands that I wrap my legs around his hips so that I'm piggy backing. Somehow, this is worse than being toted cave man style and I fight harder to disobey but to no avail.

It's a frustrating as fuck to be able to do nothing, fighting within myself to do something, and it's not until he slows infinitesimally that I pay attention to where he's taken me, my breath stopping as the walls of the familiar monastery loom up then surround us. How the hell does he know? I want to scream; it's the one thing I have killed innocents to keep secret, this place of my rebirth, and the male toting me around has just dragged me here likes it's nothing.

It shouldn't be that big of a deal though, because the bastard monks have magic or something, and years ago they've warded me out. I cannot enter unless I've died and then I leave as soon as possible since the grounds make me like I'm being slowly boiled alive. To them, I'm unholy, unclean, and I'd wipe them out completely if I thought it'd negate what their predecessors put into play before them. As it is, the current chief and every chief before him of my little family forbids me to even joke about the monk buffet I'd like to indulge in. This male won't be able to

Blast right through whatever normally keeps me out, carry me through hall's I've never even been down, before dumping me in a room that hasn't been used in a very long time given how much dust is covering the surfaces. Like the bed he drops me on, causing a flurry of particles to fly into the air, making everything blurry and leaving it all to settle back down onto my and my damaged dress because damn it all I still cannot move! I want to rip his heart out and feast on it when his eyes crinkle at the corners. This is not fucking funny.

" _After I leave, you can move but not to harm me. You may not open or damage anything, you may not speak unless I allow you to_." He turns on his heel and leaves, shutting the door firmly behind him and once he's gone, I can move. Immediately, I go to the door, but I can't make my hand leave my side; going to the window, I can't draw back the curtain to even look outside or open up a chest at the foot of the bed. I'd love to roar out my frustration but I can't. I look around the room for anything I might accidently bump into and destroy but instead find a robe that, with some rapid super strength shakes, is suitable to cover my destroyed dress.

Then I pace. There's nothing else to do. That and listen with my acute hearing. There's monks chanting, praying, talking about how their supplies are doing, and I'm catching a little bit about their "guest" and his note to get a chest. I listen, trying to catch more, but they're talking in hushed whispers and afraid. The rapid pounding of their hearts in addition to all the noise of daily life at the monastery is drowning it out. Bloody monks! Could they not be helpful at least once in my fucking life?

There is no way to tell time in the room and to one such as I, such small increments are hard to pay attention to, but it drags. I know it cannot have been more than twenty minutes before my beast growls from within me, a deep rattle vibrating the bones of my chest, and the blond is back in the room; the door is opened and closed faster than even I can exit the room. One minute I'm alone and the next it's like there's too much of each of us crammed into a space designed for creatures much smaller on several dimensions. He's carrying a chest bound in iron, tiny in his massive hands, but seems uninterested in it, his gaze on me. I'd been partly hoping he'd leave me alone when he received what he came for but that seems not to be the case.

Our eyes narrow, focusing on each other as I prowl first one way then the other, his moves mimicking mine in both direction and fluidity. I fade into the shadows in the room, not expecting to lose him and I don't; his fangs flash briefly in the dim light of the room and his eyes never leave where I am. His beast and mine, we're the same. My tricks are his, I'm nothing new to him and he's something I've never seen outside of mirror. Another rattle and he tosses the chest onto the bed and folds his arms across his truly massive chest. I can't attack him, everything I do is a bluff, so he'll do what? Sit back and enjoy the show?

Fuck that. Fuck him. I won't play his game. I have to do what he says and obey his commands but only because I cannot yet think around this thing he does to me. I stand straight and tall, folding my arms across my own chest and let my face go blank. That wipes the smile from his face and we just stare at one another. If he's truly my exact match sans gender, then I've the upper hand; my heart beats, his does not. He hasn't fed in some time.

We wait. My attention wanders and I listen once more to what's happening around me. The monks have settled, believing their visitor has left. They prepare for more guests, these welcome and regular, a family that's been visiting for years. Travelers and traders bringing with them much needed leather and fresh herbs they find on their travels. Fuck my life. My gypsy family had mentioned coming out soon. I hadn't realized that was today. My gaze snaps to my captor's face and I realize he's listening to the general chatter as well. I don't know what he thinks about it but I don't want him here while they are. I have to move him along, even if it means with me.

Attacking him is out. He's not talked to me and despite trying now, I still can't speak to him and I doubt very much there is anything I can say to him that he will listen to. I can move. I stay very still and appraise the male in front of me. I'm just a hair faster than he is and I can catch him by surprise.

I do. I'm in his space so fast that his only movement is to let his arms drop before I have his head between my palms and my mouth sealed firmly over his. I hope like hell that alone is enough to stop him from paying attention to the monks. I'm already kicking myself for putting on the robes; my dress was damaged enough to show a lot of distracting skin but for now, plastering myself against him will have to do. His mouth opens at once when my tongue traces his lower lip and I growl my approval. Another similarity; he seems to be a highly sexual creature like myself. His hands move, cup my ass and grind us together as our fangs nick flesh.

I gasp. That's insanely erotic to me and I slip my hands into his hair and pull hard, molding us more firmly together. As a distraction, I think I've won until he's flipped us, pressed me into the door. His large hand wraps around and around my long hair and pulls back, his mouth sealing over mine until I cannot breath around his kiss.


	4. Chapter 4

Lor:

For a split second I think she's figured out how to overturn Voice and she's just this side of faster than me, lacking the muscle that's packed onto my larger frame. But her hands slide along my face, she pulls herself up to her toes, and seals her mouth to mine, coaxing my lips open with a swipe of her tongue along my bottom lip.

Women throw themselves at me. They want to be taken advantage of. Used, as long as it feels good. Anything they can get from me before I walk away they'll take and be grateful for it. We've all been like that for decades. It's cold and calculated on both sides but what do you want? Acacia smells nothing of lust or need initially, I have no reason to believe she wants my body but her lush form against mine has my cock growing hard against her. The female's scent changes when my hands cup her luscious ass and grind her against me. Her kiss is like nothing I've had before and adrenaline pounds through me as I flip her so that she's pressed between the wall and me.

I wrap her hair in my hand and take her breath with my kiss, forcing her head back, making her body arch and press harder against mine. Soft curves in all the right places but there's strength in body that's wrapping around my own; sleek legs once more around my hips and damn but it's only a hundred thousand times better this time around, toned arms around my neck, strong fingers stroking my scalp.

Now she smells ready. I lean back, rip the robes she found from somewhere to the side and push two fingers into her. I hiss at the moist heat, she growls or groans, something between the two perhaps her beast and woman unable to agree on what emotion to vocalize; her body is wet but not ready despite how she arches her hips trying to force herself to take more of me. "Oh honey, we'll get there." Another growl and I look at her upturned face and go completely still. Passion hazed brown eyes, tousled brunette hair, and a blush kissed complexion isn't hers, even the fangs can't stop me from seeing the last woman I'd fucked.

Fuck.

My hands pry Acacia's legs loose so that I can flip her, press her face first against the wall and then lift her, spread her legs wide and hold her in place with my forearm against her back. She doesn't' seem to care about the switch in position or how uncomfortable it has to be; her hips lift back and I practically tear myself out of my pants. I refuse to think of who I'm having sex with or the last time I did. Spreading her ass, I find her entrance, now slicker, more ready, and press into her. Her hands come up and press against the stone of the wall, fingers digging into it, slowly starting to crumple it as I stretch her and fuck is that strength sexy as hell. I close my eyes.

Her lithe form is tense, she can't move, trapped as she is between the wall and me, face turned into the stone with her hair covering her face. I don't even want to know that. That Acacia looks amazing like this. I stop with barely an inch left before I'm fully in her. My body is screaming to just FUCK HER. Take her hard and fast until she's screaming and we've come so violently that the rage that fills us constantly is slated for at least a minute.

Instead, I drop her. Freeze frame across the room, put my clothes back in order, and grab the box Barrons and Ryodan were so hell bent on me getting to keep Mac and Dani safe. " _Follow me. Don't fall behind_."

I don't make sure she's following, just freeze frame out of the damned monastery and head for the ship that's waiting to take me back to Ireland. I'd rather have taken a bloody plane but then it would have been a shorter trip and who wanted that? Rattling from my chest causes me to add a growl to the noise I'm already making.

I'm pissed off but now it's at myself. I pride myself on knowing where I am and who I'm with. Yeah, I hadn't given a fuck and been the Bonecrusher for decades but I'm mostly invested in what the fuck's going on in everything I do now. Including women. I've known who I'm fucking, even when the unseelie Princess had me and I couldn't stop myself from being her toy. I might not know a human's name, but I'm aware of her face, her form, of how her body's reacting to mine. I'd been about to ignore Acacia and just use her. If I'd done that, how long would it have taken that knowledge to have driven me bug fuck?

I feel her next to me, moving the same way; she must have toned herself down by the smallest degree since she's not blowing by me. I can smell her; anger and sex. My dick throbs and I want to turn on her, throw her down and finish what she started but there's no guarantee I'm going to be able to focus on her. Why couldn't she have blond, red, or even black hair? Green or blue eyes? Darker skin? I veer closer to her, drop back until I'm right behind her, almost herding her, and inhale deep, ignoring how much angrier my actions are making her.

Acacia's speed increases. She continues west, never veering from the course that I set us on. When I run into a fae beast that refused to join the light court and continued to hunt down humans, she ignores me as I slay and eat it. I'm left to catch up with her fifteen minutes later, freeze-framing on her heels and pissing her off the rest of the hour and a half trip Lytham where the boat is where I left it. The sailors who man the ship are as used to the nine as any humans can be and say nothing when I suddenly appear before them with a woman in monk's robes in tow. With my hand unnecessarily wrapped around my unwilling guest's wrist, I drag her across the gangplank and down into the bowels of the ship; many years ago, back when mankind was considerably younger and just getting their sea legs that freeze-framing in boats was a bad idea.

Acacia walks with confidence, ducking and lifting her feet when needed, moving to the side to avoid men working. She's familiar with ships and I idly wonder how long she's been around and how many times she's died. She looks like she's in her late teens, so that's when she died the first time and she'd died in a period in history when killing a woman with a sword wouldn't have caused a man to think twice about it. The nine had made it into our thirties despite our rampant waring but as a woman, in a much different time, life would have taken a different path for her. I enter my temporary quarters, haul her in after me, and shut the door before turning on her.

" _Do you have children?"_ Her brows arch up, arms crossing over her chest, pressing her breasts together under that ugly fucking brown robe that covers her from neck to wrist on down to her ankles. I grab a spare shirt, cargo pants, and shove them at her. _"Change."_ Her eyes roll as she grabs the fabric and rips it off. She must have managed to grip the dress because when she drops what's left of the robes, she's in nothing but white bikini underwear. I look my fill.

"I have no children." She pulls the loose t-shirt over her head and it falls to mid-thigh on her but it does nothing to stop me from wanting her, same with the pants that she rolls at her hips until they fit length wise before she ties a length a rope around waistband. Acacia doesn't bother looking around the room or out the portholes but sits down, staring at me. The trip is an hour and forty-nine minutes, I could Voice information out of her. My eyes narrow, lock with hers. We could fuck.

Instead we sit.


	5. Chapter 5

Acacia:

I like ships. I like the movement, the smell of the ocean, and the seafaring people that closely mimics that of the gypsies. The relatively short trip to Ireland though strains my patience. My bid to distract him from the monks was a success but I didn't expect him to make me burn for him. My views on sex during my upbringing were much looser than most society's dictated and after I'd died? Less so. When I'd realized I couldn't conceive, I'd decided to take pleasure where I could but I've always had to be careful not to break my partners. With this beast in a man's skin?

I nearly shiver. I think we could be as rough as we wanted with each other and never have to worry about hurting the other. I never thought that I might crave that until today. And the fact that he'd give me a taste of that just to withdraw? I'm so fucking angry. The beast in me rages, ready to tear into him, and rip his heart out. My eyes narrow. Or rip his balls off. It's almost as if he can tell where my thoughts go when he casually grabs a large piece of wood and taps it against his palm. The idle thought that he could be a fucking cave man again crosses my mind and his fang filled smile flashes across his face.

When we finally dock, it's a relief to get out of the small room and into open air. It's been over a hundred years since I've been anywhere near Ireland, for one reason or another, and it's changed drastically. That's not too much of a surprise since everything I've heard in the past year says that ground zero of the walls falling happened here. Not that I get much of a chance to look around.

The blond male pushes me in front of him and then shoves us both into moving super-fast. It's incredibly annoying. I don't' know where I'm going, so I have to pay close attention to him to gather cues as to when to turn. The only thing I have going for me is that the streets are remarkably clean. We come up to a partially demolished building and I'm guided around it to what appears to have been the back and down a set of a stairs to a pair of heavily polished, large doors. Now at my side, he pushes them open. Wrapping an arm around my waist, he moves both of us super-fast in the way that makes me want to vomit through levels of dancefloors that makes me think of clubs, up a flight steel stairs, and into an office.

It's like being in a glass box, this office. I can see the dance floors all around. It's eerie though because despite all the smells of people and fae that I'd gotten when he'd blasted us through, there's no one there. I look over at a large desk and jerk, one of my hands dropping to the arm around my waist, nails digging into the flesh of the male holding me. Two more are tucked into the shadows of the room. Heartbeats barely there. Excitement pounds through me.

There's three males like me. We're not limited editions. Maybe there's women too? I want that. I'm still a part of the traveling band of humans who hail from the original pair that raised me but what if I'm a part of these males as well. A hand settles on my shoulder and squeezes hard and it's only then that I realize that I'm vibrating with excitement. I haven't done that in years. My captor's sharp blue eyes take me in; he must see the naked excitement on my face, before they go back to the two others.

They're equally as large as the male next to me. One about an inch taller than the other, with a little more muscle. They're both dressed well; the first in an exquisitely tailored business suit while the second, leaner one wears a dress shirt isn't fully buttoned, the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, a silver cuff on his wrist and dress slacks. Their eyes take in everything and I suppress another shiver. I've been on the top of the food chain for years but today I've met my matches. They step away from the clinging shadows together, an intimidating pair, but I stand my ground.

"I send you for a chest and you bring back a woman Lor?" The male with an icy blue gaze speaks to the male whose name is Lor but keeps his eyes on me, even when the chest he apparently wanted is thrown at his head. He catches it easily and hands it to the other male.

"Kiss my ass Ryodan. I did what you and Barrons wanted and Mac's fine. We can call us even for that little incident now." The larger male with a dark gaze, Barrons, rattles deep and stalks forward a step, the chest momentarily forgotten. I push Lor's arm away from me and feel an answering sound from my own chest along with the others, my beast's nature making itself known amongst these fellow killers.

That sound though, coming from me, stops Barrons and Ryodan in their tracks, their gazes, more ancient it seems even than mine, locking onto me. I back away from Lor. These three know each other and will most likely work together against an unknown like me. As they had done previously and despite knowing it won't do me any good, I blend with whatever shadows are in the room and move away from them with the liquid grace of my inner monster. They move trying to back me into a corner but I move super-fast around Lor, knowing I'm a little faster than him, and face them from near the desk.

For a few minutes we just take each other in after that. I swear that Barrons and Ryodan sniff at the air and have a private conversation, passing between their eyes. I want to say something but I still can't courtesy of whatever Lor has done and no amount of fighting it allows me to speak. Without any outward warning, the three move in on me again. I seem to catch them by surprise when I use the heavy wood desk and slam it into Barrons, knocking him into what I thought was a glass wall. I don't think glass can withstand getting one of whatever we are knocked into it.

The desk is ripped out of my hands by Lor and Ryodan tries to tackle me but I've already moved towards where I'm hearing a faint noise. I'm hoping it's a weak point like a duct or something and shout mentally in victory when yet another huge male opens the door to the room and just stands there. Five of us. There's five. This one is scarier than the others and I don't want to go near him but I slide under and between his legs like I'm stealing home base to get out of the room. Getting past the white haired guy and into the bigger spaces means they'll have a harder time catching me four to one. Score!

I leap and skip the stairs we'd climbed up earlier and run smack into a tall, petite red head. We both move super-fast in opposite directions then stop and stare at each other. Six and a female finally? Except. Tipping my head, I inhale deep, much like Ryodan and frown. No, she doesn't smell right. Human but maybe not even? There's a roar, I go flying as a large body takes me down from behind, and I skid painfully along the floor.

Two hundred plus pounds of who the fuck did I piss off needs to ease up. I buck and roll, bolting to my feet and heading for the exit again. Unfortunately, it's an easily predictable move and it's quickly covered by the white haired male the red head calls Fade. Too many people despite the wide space against me. I turn and spot Lor coming at me and scowl at him. He can do that thing to me and make me stop fighting and I will not. I shake my head at him. He's already taken my voice. I place my pinkies in my ears and rupture my eardrums, ignoring the pain and blood that pools and drips from my ears when I remove my fingers.

Problem solved. His lips move but I can't hear anything though I'm almost certain he says something along the lines of "what the bloody fuck Acacia". I'll have to keep moving and pay close attention to the air now to stay ahead of this group but damn it, they are not the friendliest bunch of…whatever it is we are I've never met.

Lor moves for me and I bolt forward, dodging to his left and catching the red head towards my right. Her lips move, eyes locking to my right and I duck, almost caught by Ryodan. His lips move and I think he calls the red head Dani. Air displaced over my left shoulder. I duck, spin, lash out and stop; fucking Lor. His command not to hit him still holds. I sink into my mind and scream. Within that second of anger I find myself; my fist cocks back and I let my fist slam into his face, feeling the satisfying crunch of his nose breaking soothes me.

Hot damn. Fuck. His hand closes on my shoulder and he yanks me down and to his side, the male Fade's booted foot nearly hitting me in the head. That would have hurt. Pain explodes in my stomach as Lor punches me in the stomach and air whooshes out from my lungs. Punches never hurt. I hook my leg through his and yank, taking him and myself down in a tangle of limbs. Barrons reaches down and grabs my wrist but I bite his arm deep enough to have him yanking it back hard. Before he can reach for me again, Lor's rolling us away from Fade towards Dani, who's being pulled away by Ryodan.

This whole situation is such a cluster fuck. Down a small flight of stairs takes us away from the bulk of these people and I ram my knee between Lor's legs on a roll when I'm on top. His breath now wheezes out from what I can see of his chest and I roll to my feet, bolting super-fast style through a damaged part of a club for the exit. I'm so close, so near to freedom. I'm going to get away, find a way to communicate with these people on my equal terms about what I am and

I'm blasted from the side, white hair all I catch peripherally before I hit something, a beam maybe, and agonizing pain tears through my chest. I want to breathe deep and cry out, but there's just not enough air. I fall back and to the side, blood pouring from a wound in my chest. I ran into something sharp that's heavily damaged my heart. Okay. I can work with this. If I can stay awake long enough, I can take out or damage it bad enough to die. This is such a shitty option.

I reach up, dig my hand in, grab, and


	6. Chapter 6

Lor:

Fuck. The past five minutes have gone utterly bug fuck. Probably the fastest shit's gone downhill since the hoar frost kind debacle. Or perhaps when Barrons deliberately brought the Book into Chesters knowing Mac wasn't fully in charge. I drag my pained ass up and freeze frame over to the still form of Acacia. I know it's an accident that she's dead. The height of the broken beam, where she hit, it's just bad happenstance , but I still shove at Fade before kicking the beam where it meets the floor so that it snaps and falls back. Dani's roughly the same height as the fallen female.

Then I crouch by her side and examine her. A wound to the heart is agonizing but she died with a smirk on her face; because she got out of this situation or she knows about us are my guesses as to why but either way, she's probably going to chalk this up as a win. I pull her right hand out of her chest, drape it over her stomach and add her left hand over it, ignoring Fade as he leaves. Barrons, Ryodan, and Dani hang back as I scoop Acacia up and follow when I freeze frame into a room adjacent to the office I'd brought her to earlier. I lay her on the bed that's the only thing in the room then sit down next to the body that technically no longer houses Acacia and wait for one of them to say something.

Unsurprisingly it's Dani. Or Jada. Fuck if I can tell which one I'm dealing with on any given day. Her hand settles on my shoulder and squeezes for a second and I figure my initial call is right. It's Dani today. She takes her hand back and brushes Acacia's hair away from her face and neck, taking in part of the scar visible on her neck and shoulder. "She's one of you." Sharp green eyes move over to Ryodan and there's a brief, wordless conversation between the two of them I blatantly ignore.

"Where did you find her?" Barrons stays where he is by Ryodan's side but I know he's taking in as much detail as Dani is.

"In England. About an hour and a half from the monastery." I go into a detailed report of what happened after I found her, sans nearly fucking her, and end with bringing her into Chesters. Dani's riveted, vibrating with the need to ask questions but Ryodan and Barrons don't look happy or impressed. I can list a number of things I did wrong. Like wasting my chance at using Voice on her. She's immune to me now. The other two mistook her scent initially because of my clothes and because of how close I came to having sex with her, but they know something else went down. They'll wait till Dani's gone before asking questions.

Or they'll try. I'm not going to be here long enough for them to try and get every miniscule detail out of me or make this an issue for the nine to handle. I found her and I'm going to deal with her on my own, before she gathers arcane knowledge or goes into hiding. Besides, something about those wards I'd blasted through to get into the monastery and the timing of Acacia's kiss makes me want to back. If I can get out of Ireland in the next few minutes, I can deal with her on my own. It's all I can do to hold in a shit eating grin.

Barrons has Mac to handle and Ryodan Dani/Jada to distract him. The others aren't as invested as the three of us are in the world and they won't come after me. Acacia can be my distraction for now and if it's a distraction that drives me bug fuck for a little bit at least it's one of my own choosing.


End file.
